


What Love Means

by fabledgarden



Category: Dragalia Lost (Video Game)
Genre: Cults, Dark Magic, Dark Past, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hostage Situations, M/M, Mystery, Past Child Abuse, Plot, Religious Conflict, Religious Guilt, Sacrifice, Slow Burn, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2019-12-18 11:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18248711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabledgarden/pseuds/fabledgarden
Summary: What does love mean? After the bet, a gruesome case leaves both of them wondering what love really is. Secrets are revealed and their partnership is put to the test. Enjoy this extremely slow burn!





	1. The Dragon-Part Smuggler

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place directly after the Heinwald story episode 3. It can be watched on youtube here https://youtu.be/GEGfk94q9hs at the 20:03 mark and it is beautiful fodder for any ship.

“Oi, you’re not seriously putting up a sign advertising your intent to marry anyone that says yes, are ya?” Curran exclaimed incredulously.

“I merely seek to understand what drives others to form such bonded pairs for life. Clearly, financial stability was not enough for the woman prior to this, so I shall have as many people as possible tell me what their goals are if they are to wed me.”

Curran sighed. “No way! This is getting ridiculous, Heinwald!”

Euden laughed nervously to try to ease the tension. “Yeah, I think this whole thing might cause you more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Maybe so. But I--”

“Urgent news, milord!”

A messenger came running towards them waving a letter in hand. The team watched silently as Heinwald opened the envelope and scanned it quickly.

“Another dragon smuggler, deep in the forests near here,” the scholar explained plainly.

Curran smirked. “Oh, well then I guess your little marriage experiment will have to wait.”

“Yes, but I _will_ complete it after this. After all, there is no mystery I cannot solve,” Heinwald stately pointedly as he handed the letter back to the messenger.

“There you go again, you cheeky bastard!” Curran barked as he threw his hands up in the air.

Euden smiled while sweating nervously as he inched away from the two. “I think I’ll let you two handle this. I should probably head back to the castle anyways.”

 

\-----------

 

As the pair rode in their carriage, Heinwald sat in the back reading a book while Curran held the horse’s reins. This was their mode of travel if the place was far away. And the location that the letter gave of this smuggler’s hut was very deep in the forest. Once they reached as far as they could by trail, they tied the horse to a tree before proceeding on foot. It was late afternoon, so they would have to hurry to reach it before sundown. After following the map for twenty more minutes, they finally reached the small hut made of stone and wood.

“Looks like the location is spot on,” Curran whispered triumphantly as they crept towards it.

Heinwald nodded in response as he had his staff at the ready.

“Open up! You’re under arrest!” Curran shouted as he banged on the door of the hut with his fist.

He waited precisely one second before smashing the lock with his axe and kicking the door down. As the two rushed inside, to their left a hooded figure blew an overwhelming amount of red dust all over them. Instantly, their eyes watered and throats closed up. The pair collapsed to their knees with an uncontrollable coughing fit, feeling as if their lungs were about to come out of their throat. The figure in the red cloak made sure to dash out of the hut as soon as they fell, leaving them to rot.

Heinwald strained to reach into a pocket of his satchel, fumbling before taking out a small container. As he gasped for breath, he opened it to reveal a pale yellow balm, rubbing some on his fingers and then putting it in his mouth. Then he applied it to his eyelids and some on his nose. It instantly stopped the pain, and he paused to take slow breaths before getting up to go to Curran. He quickly shoved the balm in the other’s mouth and put some on his face, giving him a moment to let the effect take place.

Curran gripped his throat as his coughing slowed to rough breathing. “What…what the hell…was that?”

“Moringa balm. Soothes the effects of dragon blood resin.”

“Dragon blood?”

“Yes,” Heinwald replied with a scowl as he inspected some of the dust on the floor. “How disgusting for someone to use such a thing.”

Curran mirrored his partner’s rage-filled expression before glancing out the door. “Dammit, and of course the bastard got away.”

The magical scholar was already inspecting the small hut for clues. First, the bookshelf. Many books were titled on dragons and the use of certain parts of their body as medicine.

‘ _Such an appalling use of knowledge’_ , Heinwald thought as he took a mental note of all the supplies. He then went back to the dust on the floor and collected some in a test tube.

“Guy’s a dangerous wack job.” Curran scowled at the baby drake wings hanging from the ceiling and Imp scales scattered around an empty cauldron. “We gotta find him before he injures any more dragons.”

Heinwald was looking closely at the desk, as if looking for a specific speck of dust. “Help me find anything of his, like a hair or nail.”

“Alright,” Curran obeyed without even questioning it. They have done this once or twice before if the situation is dire. He squatted to the floor and began to search.

After a few minutes, Curran was finally able to find a small hair by the doorway. He almost missed it because of the dust covering it. “Aha! Jackpot!”

“Splendid!” Heinwald exclaimed as he took the hair and placed it into another fresh tube. “This person knew to keep anything that could trace back to him minimal, but couldn’t be so careful as he was leaving.” He walked outside to head back towards the cart. “He knows his magic well. We should be extra cautious.”

Curran gripped his axe tighter as he followed the other. They’ve dealt with blackmarket dragon part smuggling before, but this was the first person that actually seemed to know what they were up against. They hurried as the sun was setting, arriving to the spot where their carriage was to find nothing there.

“Agh, dammit all!” Curran shouted to the sky as he stomped in frustration. “This bastard really wants a death wish!”

Heinwald clicked his tongue in anger, tapping his foot impatiently as he scanned through all possible ways to fix their dilemma. “Truly, he will be punished worse than death.” His staffed glowed purple as it channeled his emotions. If there was one thing he hated most besides being wrong, it was being forced to exert unnecessary energy towards a task. And having to walk all the way back home like this was the most unnecessary of tortures. The scholar vowed to give that smuggler a good hex for every blister that he gets on his feet.

As they began to head back towards town, the sun had set and the wind proved to be quite formidable. Curran rubbed his bare forearms. His jacket was in the cart.

“You cold or anything?” he asked the mage.

“No, but I would appreciate a foot massage,” Heinwald grumbled.

Curran laughed. “You hate walking this much, huh?” He eyed the other with a smirk. “So we gotta find you a bride that gives good foot massages!”

Heinwald couldn’t help but laugh at the last comment. “I suppose so.”

After few more miles, they finally made it back to town. It was so late that the only place open was the local bar. Joyous laughter and loud voices could be heard as they approached.

Curran perked up and nudged the other’s shoulder slightly. “I think I need a drink after all the cow crap we just experienced.”

“You go ahead. I need to go back to the manor to prepare the location spell.”

Curran stopped smiling and looked at his partner with concern. “If I’m tired, then for sure you gotta be almost dead. Let’s just rest up and regain our strength tonight.”

“I refuse to think that getting drinks in a bar will regain our strength.”

“Alright, alright. Well just come meet me at my place tomorrow at dawn. And promise me you will at least get a few hours of sleep, ya damn overachiever!”

“Ha ha, I will,” Heinwald smiled softly as he turned to tread towards his manor.

They may argue and not share many interests together, but for some reason they cared about each other. The thought made Heinwald feel warm and added the much needed vigor to complete his journey home that night. He had much to do, and knowing that at least Curran cared for him was enough to keep going. He planned out his night, making sure to reserve a spot to get four hours of sleep.

 


	2. The Mystery Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This case proves to be much more personal than originally thought. Can Curran still trust Heinwald by the end of this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: graphic depictions of violence and dismemberment.

_Knock knock._

“Morning,” Curran greeted with a yawn as he opened the door to a tired-looking Heinwald. He took one look at his friend and frowned. “You did sleep, right?”

The scholar adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Of course. I even allotted a time in my schedule for the night to do so.”

“You don’t look like you slept well, though,” Curran commented.

“The location spell does take much time and effort to perform, so it was quite mentally taxing, even for me. But on the bright side, I think I am becoming more efficient in my use of resources and performing it in record time with each trial.”

Curran couldn’t help but smile at the way Heinwald babbles about his spells and rituals. “I’m glad. Is that smuggler’s location far away like last time?”

“Indeed.” Heinwald took out a map of the area and pointed at a red circle deep in the forest on the complete opposite end from where the hut was marked and double the distance.

Curran sighed. “Ah, I almost forgot the bastard stole our cart. I’ll go request another one from the church.”

The Inquisitor ran to go grab his coat and axe. “Oh yeah! You hungry? I made some extra breakfast just in case.”

Heinwald held his hand up in refusal. “Much appreciated, but I have eaten already.”

After grabbing his coat, Curran started packing the extra bread in a sack. “Alright, rich boy. Wait here then while I go grab a new cart for us.”

Heinwald stepped out of the way just in time to avoid Curran running past him out the door. The scholar leaned against the wall outside and began flipping through his current book. After a while, he could hear hooves and rickety wheels approaching.

“Yo! Flip in!”

Heinwald smiled and shook his head at his phrasing before climbing in through the back and handing the map to Curran to use.

“Er, I got it wrong again, didn’t I?”

“Yes, it’s _hop_ in.”

“Dammit…”

 

* * *

 

 

 

After reaching the farthest area they could by cart once more, they stopped to think. “Oi, Heinwald. What should we do so the cart doesn’t get stolen again?”

Heinwald replaced the bookmark and shut the book once he finished his sentence. “I was thinking about it on the way here. Why don’t I go investigate first. You trail behind me as far as you can while staying within range of the carriage. I shall call for you if I need anything.”

Curran beamed as he jumped off the cart to tie the horse to a tree. “Alright, sounds like a plan!”

Heinwald emerged from the back gripping his staff as he proceeded into the forest. After a few minutes, Curran followed, making sure to crouch down and be as inconspicuous as possible. He hid in a bush that was angled in such a way that he had good eyes on both Heinwald and the horse.

The scholar stepped slowly, taking note of every sight, smell, and sound. Speaking of smell, he began to smell the copper scent of flesh. He moved faster towards the area indicated from the location spell, the scent becoming stronger and making it harder to breathe. The scholar’s eyes widened as he approached the spot and witnessed a most gruesome sight before him. Drakes and other baby dragons lay mangled in a pile beneath a tree. Above written on the tree in blood was the phrase, ‘ _Heinwald. This is your doing_.’

The scholar froze and could no longer feel his fingertips or toes. He felt as if the blood in his body had instantly solidified. It took a long moment before he could force his muscles to move. “…Curran!”

The Inquisitor sprinted to him, axe at the ready. He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the massacre and message written on the tree.

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Curran exclaimed in shock.

Heinwald took a long look at the poor dismembered dragons. Many had their limbs ripped off and strewn across the pile, some with eyes and tongues missing. All looked like they were in major pain, even in death. The mage’s sharp eyes then turned up to the accursed message. It looked fresh and matched the dragon blood from below.

“It is impossible to tell their intentions…But it appears that I am their target,” Heinwald finally spoke. “The main drawback to the location spell is that it only pinpoints to where the person is during the time of that spell. Whether the person moves after it is cast is an issue. Given that there is no other signs of struggle or bloodshed besides here, I can only assume that he knew we were going to track him to this spot. He then planted this here as a warning…for me.”

“I get that you’re a weirdo and a rich noble and all, but why you?”

Heinwald pursed his lips in concentration, glaring at the dragons as if trying to find some other secret message through them. “I have a few ideas.”


	3. Black Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curran and Heinwald split up to search for clues. Not much is found so far, at least on Curran’s end. But Heinwald remains as secretive as ever. Will this affect their progress?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this long and juicy chapter! Your kudos and comments are much appreciated! Let me know how you like the story so far!

Curran glared at the scholar. “What sort of shady business have you been up to, Heinwald?”

Heinwald returned exasperatedly, “Myself? Nothing. But I have a few guesses as to why I am being targeted specifically.”

“Uh-huh,” Curran retorted as he crossed his arms. “Keep talking.”

“I sense your distrust in me.” Heinwald looked at the other with disappointment. “But I can assure you that my own actions are just by our society’s moral standards. That is a possibility of my being disliked in the community.”

Now Curran just looked confused. “And how’s that, exactly?”

“It’s simple. When one has power and money, despite how kind their actions are, there are still those that want to take it from him.”

“So you think that guy is pissed that you’re a rich guy that uses your power for good?”

Heinwald paused before responding. He thought about Euden and what happened in the Library Obscura. “Sometimes being too generous can also lead to misfortune.”

Curran sighed in disapproval. “Such twisted minds out there. We gotta be extra cautious that we don’t lose ya.”

Heinwald smiled at the other’s concern. “Thank you, Curran, but it is just a theory for now. We need more evidence to back up this claim. Perhaps you should go question recent criminals involved in dragon part smuggling to see if they have made any exchanges with this fellow.”

Curran nodded in approval. “Alright. And what exactly will you be doing in the meantime?”

“I have a few other ideas that need to be researched…Why don’t you meet me at my manor tonight for dinner to report our findings?”

“Okay!” Curran gave him a thumbs up before gasping in realization. “I almost forgot! We should check on the cart!”

They sprinted back to the trail to find both horse and cart right where they left it. They both sighed in relief as they climbed in.

“Would you be so kind as to drop me off near the Questhaven River?” Heinwald suddenly chimed.

Curran paused to glare back at him. “All the way over there? What is that for?”

“It would make my journey go along much faster. I have some suspicions I need to settle before heading home to do some investigating at the manor.”

Curran sighed as he knew that he was not going to get much else than such a vague response. Heinwald was a cautious man, which led to him not revealing much about his intentions and actions until it was already done. Luckily, they never led to anything terrible, so Curran followed along.

“Alright, alright. I’ll meet ya there.”

 

* * *

 

 

After dropping off Heinwald, Curran rode to bring the cart back to the stables at the town church. He made sure his axe was still nice and sharp before heading over to the prison. The Inquisitor entered and waved at the receptionist.

“Hey there!” Curran greeted as he walked up to the counter. He then lowered his voice and leaned forward to make sure only the receptionist could hear him. “Here for a case that involves dragon part smuggling. Can I have a list of your recent inmates?”

“Sure thing, Curran.” The man opened a drawer and sifted through some files before pulling out a sheet of paper. “This is the list of inmates that have come in since the beginning of the month.”

“Thank you, Frederick. Any interesting people?” Curran asked as he took the paper and quickly started scanning through the brief descriptions of the inmates.

Frederick shrugged with a frown. “Not really. Nothing out of the ordinary at least.”

After a few seconds of reading, Curran asked again, “How about this guy…Er, Gustav? Says here that he was arrested for smuggling a whole taxidermized Fafnir! Was that true?!”

Fredrick took a quick glance at Gustav’s picture and nodded. “Oh yeah, that guy. Yeah, I can’t believe he had that!”

“Mind if I go…talk…to him?” Curran asked with a smirk as he hefted his axe against his shoulder.

The receptionist laughed and waved his hand. “Of course! Just don’t make too much of a scene or these people may stop believing in Ilia.”

“If they beliefed in Ilia, then they wouldn’t be in prison.”

Frederick tried to hide his laughter as he gave him the keys. “…Pfft…Yes, um this one here is for entering the prison block, and…this one here is for Gustav’s cell. He is going to be in cell twenty-seven…heheh…”

Curran blushed in embarrassment as he took the keys. “Ahem…Thank you, Frederick.”

Curran quickly rushed away before Frederick could even respond. The Inquisitor entered the block, storming through the halls with an intimidating glare. The inmates called out to him, calling him names and reaching through the bars to try to grab him, but he paid no mind to any of it. Once he reached cell twenty-seven, he stood with legs spread apart and twisted the axe in his hands. Gustav was sitting on the floor picking at the cement before he noticed a shadow and looked up in terror at the Inquisitor.

“H-hey! What the hell?!”

“Relax,” Curran boasted with a smirk. “You’re already doing your time. I just have a few questions.”

“Oh, praise the ancient,” the prisoner sighed as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

“Where exactly did you get that taxidermized Fafnir of yours?”

Gustav paused and smirked proudly. “Well, the taxidermy I made on my own, thank you very much.”

“Okay…But did you kill that Fafnir yourself?”

“Er…well, no…” Gustav responded sheepishly. “But I ain’t gonna tell ya where I got it from! This guy is crazy! I ain’t gonna be involved in any of that!”

Curran suddenly gripped one of the bars with his free hand and shook the door, the violent rattling causing every voice to instantly stop in their tracks.

Curran roared, “Oh you _better_ tell me, or this axe is gonna meet with your throat! You think this thing is for show, huh?”

Suddenly, his axe began to glow and emit a purple flame around it. Curran was gripping it so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

Gustav shrieked, “Okay! Okay! But please don’t let him know that I told you! I beg of you!”

The Inquisitor stopped shaking the bars and loosened his grip a little. His voice softened back to normal, although his face was still entirely serious. “Like I said before, you’re already doing your time. I’m just after him is all.”

Gustav took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He leaned in to whisper, “He goes by…Black Jack.”

Curran looked down at him confused. He had never heard of such a guy. He stepped back and thanked Gustav before leaving him be. After returning the keys and exiting the prison, the Inquisitor went to the town sundial and looked at the time, clicking his tongue in frustration. It was still hours before he had to meet Heinwald back at his manor.

Curran decided to grab some food from the market to sate his hunger as he contemplated about where to find more clues. He asked some shopkeepers that he knew of that prepare their stands as early as dawn if they had seen anyone with a red cloak or someone riding in with their old carriage this morning. No one had seen anything. He then searched the outskirts of town for clues, but the trails had so many footprints, hoof marks, and wheel lines that it was difficult to decipher any of it. The surrounding woods revealed nothing out of the ordinary as well.

After spending a few hours surveying the town, he decided it was getting late enough to start heading to Heinwald’s place. Upon arriving, he was told that Heinwald had not returned yet. Curran was offered some tea and a place to relax in the lounge while waiting. He wasn’t one for fancy teas but took it anyway as it did do wonders to helping him relax. Minutes became hours and Heinwald still had not returned. Not even the whole teapot he was given could keep Curran relaxed now. He paced back and forth in the room, occasionally going out to the hall to ask a servant if he is back yet. Finally, close to midnight, Heinwald entered the room to a still-pacing Curran.

“My deepest apologies for keeping you.”

Curran jolted and started to shout at him angrily, “Oh sure, Mr. “I’m Going to Return at Midnight Despite Telling Curran to Meet Me at Dinnertime!’”

Heinwald sighed as he closed the door behind him. “It was not my intention to stay as long as I did. For that, I do offer a sincere apology.” Heinwald looked at the other guiltily, eyes asking for forgiveness.

After seeing that Heinwald was truly sorry, Curran ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “Ahh, alright…I forgive ya…So long as you have some juicy information to share.”

Heinwald beamed at Curran being so understanding. “I do. It seems that the magic using dragon parts is extremely old, before our very goddess. Sacrificing dragon parts specifically is used to awaken ancient beings of other realms.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Yes. I cannot deduce exactly _which_ being is the target to be summoned, but I will once we have more clues.”

Curran nodded. “On my end, I think I got the name of the guy after you.”

“Do tell.”

“Well…I can only assume it’s not his real name, but I was told it was Black Jack.”

“Hmm…” Heinwald stroked his chin in thought. “Black Jack…”

“Do you know anything about him?”

“I do not. But that doesn’t mean I _won’t_ know anything about him,” Heinwald replied with his usual smirk.

“Tch. Your overconfidence is really something, ya egghead.”

“Ha ha. As I always say, it is nothing but truth. At any rate—given the time—would you like to stay the night?”

Curran suddenly realized how tired he was. After having such a long day and having the adrenaline from worrying about Heinwald subsiding, exhaustion finally hit him like a brick.

“Yeah, that would be great, thank you.”

Heinwald smiled and led him down the hall to one of the spare rooms. Heinwald’s was just at the end of the hall. Just as Curran was about to enter his own room, the mage stopped him with a hand grabbing at his arm. Being extra tired, this jolted Curran in surprise.

“Huh? What is it, Heinwald?”

The scholar’s eyes were still sharp as he stared deep into the other’s eyes. “If I am to take much longer than our scheduled meeting, please do not wait for me…This room is yours to use as you please.”

“Alright, alright! No need to get so serious!” Curran laughed as he grasped at Heinwald’s wrist for him to let go of his arm.

“With my life at stake, I would hope you were to take this more seriously.”

Curran frowned and kept his grip on the other’s hand, tightening slightly out of habit from gripping his axe. “Sorry…I think I’m more tired than I thought. I want you to know that I _am_ taking this case very seriously.”

Heinwald smiled softly at the other. Before he could pull his arm back, Curran used his strength to pull him into a warm embrace. Heinwald froze as he was completely caught off guard. He had never really received a hug before, not since he was a kid anyway. He had forgotten how safe and comforting it had felt like.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Curran whispered as he rubbed the other’s back.

The scholar was still speechless. For once, his mind had managed to completely stop working. Curran released him and laughed at how shell-shocked he looked.

“Hey, don’t tell me that’s the first hug you have ever received!”

“I…” Heinwald shook his head to snap out of it. His cheeks were a little pink as he glared up at Curran. “I have been hugged before…”

“Oh yeah? _After_ you were a toddler?” Curran challenged with a smirk.

“…” Heinwald averted his gaze.

Curran rubbed Heinwald’s shoulder with a pitying look. “Good grief. How are you supposed to find love like this?”

The scholar pushed Curran’s arm away and glared, his cheeks glowing a brighter red. “Go to bed! We have much to do in the morning!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun trivia: Questhaven is a nickname for a supposedly haunted forest in my city. I thought it fitting to put that name to use as a place in the story. Plus, it sounds cool.
> 
> Edit: Wow, how cool for the total word count up 'til now to be exactly 4300. I shall find a way to use that number for something. Probably not this fic, but something.


	4. An Unpleasant Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy having your heart ripped out this chapter! :)

Curran woke up refreshed and energized, the luxurious pillows and mattress adding the much-needed comfort for him after the long day prior. He changed into his day clothes and went to the dining hall for breakfast, finding Heinwald sitting at the head of the table engrossed in a book.

“Mornin’!” The Inquisitor greeted as he sat himself next to him.

Heinwald closed his book and smiled back, his eyes looking rather tired. “Sleep well?”

“Mm-hm.” Curran nodded but took note at how poorly Heinwald was. “You don’t look like you did, though.”

Heinwald waved at a server to bring over some food as he frowned. “I was contemplating a lot. Trying to figure out what this person’s plans are, what sort of reason this person may have a vendetta against me in particular…There are too many possibilities as it stands at the moment.”

Curran rubbed his back to try to ease the man’s worries. “I know. But we’ll get to the bottom of it. I can see if I can squeeze some more information from people in prison today.”

“Yes…” Heinwald stared down at his plate with a troubled look. “May I ask you something personal?”

“What is it?” Curran eyed him in confusion.

The food had arrived, causing Heinwald to pause and give his thanks to the servers. Curran licked his lips and helped himself to as many eggs, toast, and sausages he could fit on his plate. Heinwald more delicately filled his plate with just one toast and a couple pieces of each other dish.

After taking his first bite, Heinwald quietly asked, “…What were your parents like?”

Curran chewed slowly as his eyes looked upwards in thought. “Hmm…” He swallowed before speaking. “Well my dad was a pastor for most of his life; mom was a church teacher part-time and then taking care of me the rest. They were good people…Miss them sometimes. How about yours? I know your dad wasn’t really that great, but what about your mom?”

“Well…my mother had died shortly after my father and sister did, probably from the shock of their deaths. However, before then she was strict and very intent on me carrying on my father’s legacy. I did take up the mantle…but I refuse to cause any more harm than I had that day…I want to govern through kindness, unlike my parents did.”

“That takes guts…” Curran paused as he grasped the scholar’s hand, bringing the two into a deep stare into each other’s eyes. “Look, about that little teasing last night and this whole love bet thing…I don’t really mean all that. You deserve love, Heinwald. You really do.”

Heinwald could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He recoiled his hand out of reflex; physical contact was definitely in his un-comfort zone.  “I…Ahem…Have one more thing to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think causes someone to care for another so deeply that it leads to it being called ‘love’?”

“Hmm…Well I think it depends on the person. Some people care about looks, others about brains, if they’re funny…” Curran shrugged. “I dunno.”

“That merely sounds like regular socialization. People are always on the search for happiness through others, but what distinguishes love from regular companionship?”

Curran began scratching his head in frustration. “Agh, I dunno! Stop asking me this philosophical stuff! That’s your job!”

Heinwald laughed and they continued to eat in a comfortable silence. However, that was interrupted as a servant rushed towards them, looking rather worried.

“Apologies for the intrusion, milord,” she stated with a bow. “But we have members of the Church here requesting your presence.”

The pair eyed each other with grave seriousness before putting their breakfast on hold. They were led to the entrance of the manor to find another inquisitor, Marburg, waiting for them. He was a head taller than Curran and twice as buff. The man was also tanned and shaven bald with a few scars on his head. He had certainly looked the part of an inquisitor and had the strict attitude of one as well.

“Marburg?” Curran exclaimed angrily. They had never gotten along as far as personalities go.

Heinwald kept a level head. “What brings another inquisitor such as yourself to my manor?”

“Well,” Marburg glared down at the scholar and crossed his arms. “The Church has requested me put you under house arrest.”

“What for, exactly?” Heinwald glared back up at the other.

“Yeah, what the hell?” Curran barked back.

“Well, everyone in town woke up this morning to find runes carved onto their front doors. Our other scholars are able to decipher them as a spell that bonds the people living in the homes to their certain doom.”

Heinwald’s eyes narrowed. “And you came to the conclusion that _I_ have done this?”

“We have spoken to many witnesses that have stated that someone in a black and purple coat with long black and white hair was spotted late at night marking the doors. No other man looks like that but you.”

“…”

“What? Heinwald please tell me they’re lying!” Curran desperately shook his friend.

Marburg continued, “We cannot 100% confirm all of this, so the Church is just having you be put under house arrest while we continue this investigation.”

“Heinwald! Just tell them what you were doing last night! You were out searching for clues for the case, right?”

“…”

“Where were you last night if not doing all of this, Heinwald?” Marburg demanded.

Heinwald closed his eyes to think for a moment. He opened them to stare up defiantly at the taller man. “…I’m afraid I cannot say.”

“Huh?” Curran yelled as he shook Heinwald again. “What do ya mean you can’t say! This is no time for you to be all mysterious and secretive, ya idiot!”

The scholar grabbed Curran’s arms to get him to stop shaking him. He then turned to face Marburg and stated openly, “I’ll accept the house arrest for the time being.”

Marburg smirked. “Good.”

Curran started to shake his friend again. “Oi, Heinwald! What the hell are you doing?”

Heinwald grumbled and pushed at Curran’s face. “Stop it, you buffoon!”

Marburg grabbed Curran by the back of his shirt and pulled him off. “And _you_ are gonna help the Church out with the search!”

Curran swatted the other man’s arm away and got up at his face. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“The townsfolk and the servants here all confirmed your absence from the town at night, so you are not a direct threat. And if you are an accomplice, then it’s best to have you two separated.”

“Huh? An accomplice?! You’re joking, right?” By now Curran was fuming and yelling directly into Marburg’s face.

Marburg glowered down at the other inquisitor in disgust. “Everyone in the Church knows how sloppy and soft you are! You let people go even if they are heretics, and your partner is this dark mage _lunatic_!” he bellowed as his arm swung out to point at Heinwald.

The scholar averted his eyes in guilt, and Marburg continued. “The only reason you are even allowed to continue your job is because your parents were huge patrons of the Church and well-respected among the community. _You_ , on the other hand are a disgrace!” He grabbed Curran by the collar and began to shove him away from Heinwald and towards the front door. “And if you have any sense of respect for them, you’ll stop being such a hothead and do your damn job for once!”

Curran yelled in blind fury as he went to swing at him for a punch, but Marburg was able to easily grab his fist with a sneer.

“That’s enough!” bellowed the lord of the manor.

The inquisitors both paused to turn towards a red-faced Heinwald. Curran had never seen him this angry before. His fists were clenched down at his sides and he was shaking in anger.

“I have already stated my compliance!” he continued with teeth seething. “Now leave!”

“Oi, Heinwald…” Curran reached out an arm to his friend.

Heinwald shot his rage-filled gaze to him. “I have made myself clear!”

“Let’s go,” Marburg commanded as he grabbed Curran’s arm and dragged him out. He then bowed slightly to Heinwald. “Apologies for the disturbance, Lord Heinwald. If your innocence pans out, then we will release you.”

Curran took one last look at Heinwald and felt his heart sink. Heinwald held his glare down at them before a servant nervously closed the door behind them. Curran wasn’t sure if he should be pissed at Heinwald for not telling the truth or Marburg for insulting him and his parents. Everything was happening way too fast for him to process it all. He felt a headache quickly forming and vision blurring as reality felt far away. He knew this day was going to be another long and terrible one as he begrudgingly dragged his feet to follow Marburg.


	5. A Revisting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER WARNING for the ending of the Accursed Archives event. If you missed it, I really recommend watching it, especially with the JP voices. It can be watched on youtube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lCFR7_mwys
> 
> Apologies for the wait. This chapter in particular was difficult to write in terms of pacing and events. We are in the endgame now. /shot

The Ilian church in this town was one of the largest in the country, a towering force with large stained-glass patterns of dragons and the goddess proudly displayed all over. With an evil spell threatening the people of one of its towns, the Church gathered all its strongest members to help combat it. Curran glared as he eyed the runes carved on every front door in the town and even the cathedral itself. He knew Heinwald was innocent but was in no position to argue with the clergy during such a distressing time. The blond huffed as he reluctantly entered the building after Marburg, following him to the cardinal’s office.

Marburg knocked before being allowed in, greeting the cardinal with a formal bow. “Sir, we have Heinwald cooperating with his house arrest and Curran here to help with the search.”

Cardinal Hugues gazed up from the papers on his desk and smiled at seeing Curran. “Ah, splendid! Wonderful! Thank you for your cooperation, Curran.”

Curran couldn’t help but continue to frown. “So what I am to do here, Sir?”

“We have all our archmages researching on how to prevent this certain doom on our town and all inquisitors on the search for anyone involved. You are free to search as you will; however, you are not to go anywhere near Heinwald’s manor.”

“But he is our best bet to figuring this all out!” Curran blurted.

“He is a _suspect_ , Curran. People saw no one other than _him_ marking the doors! For now, we cannot risk him lying and sending us to our doom even faster!”

“And why exactly would he want to destroy the very town he lives in? He has someone after him! They’re just trying to frame him! Please, just let me show you! There’s a place in the forest full of dead dragons with a message saying they’re after Heinwald! Why would he do that, huh?”

“Obviously, to make it seem like he is a victim,” Marburg scoffed.

“Tch. I know Heinwald, and he would never go out of his way to do something so cold-blooded. He always helps people no matter what!”

Marburg barked at the other inquisitor, “Don’t waste our time! He is a freak that keeps fiends as pets and studies the occult! The only reason we haven’t locked him up is because of you saying you’ll keep an eye on him, but really, you’re just being soft on him!”

Curran glared as his cheeks turned red. Was it from anger or embarrassment? His mind was fuming. “I…am not—He only studies dark magic to find new ways to help people! I would never lie to the Church!”

“If that is so, and he is as good a person that you say he is, then why would he not tell us where he was last night, huh? Not even tell you, the person he is closest with!”

Curran paused as his hands shook in anger. He had no idea why Heinwald would not tell him something so crucial, resulting in his own house arrest. He looked down dejectedly and answered in almost a whisper.

“…I don’t know…But I still trust him…”

The air in the room was heavy from the argument. Finally, the cardinal smiled pityingly at Curran. “You were always one to put trust in someone first, Curran,” Hugues commented softly. “That generosity is needed in such a brutal career as an inquisitor, but I’m afraid it is not going to do anything to close this case.”

Curran released a long sighed in defeat. “…Alright…I’ll go search for clues, then…”

Cardinal Hugues nodded and clasped his hands together. “Thank you for being so understanding, Curran. You are a prized member of the Church. Both of you please be careful and report back any findings.”

With that, the two inquisitors bowed and took their leave, Marburg grumbling about how the church could be so lenient to someone like Curran. As they exited the building, they both paused as they noticed they began walking the same direction as each other.

“Oi, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Curran spat.

Marburg glared down at him. “The prison, of course! I’m gonna beat some information out of people.”

“Hey I was gonna go there! I need more information from this one guy!”

Marburg scoffed. “If you weren’t so soft, you would have gotten _all_ the information the first time around! Leave the tough stuff to me.”

The larger man rammed the other’s shoulder as he stormed past him. Curran winced and almost punched the back of that guy’s annoying bald head, but he took a few deep breaths to stop himself. He had more important things to worry about, he thought as he glanced back at Heinwald’s manor in the distance. His heart ached as he wanted nothing more than Heinwald to be with him to figure this all out. Curran sighed as he went up to a door with the runes scrawled on it to see if he could notice anything. It was red, same color as the dragon blood and the message written to Heinwald.

“Wait, duh!” Curran slapped himself in the face.

He ran as fast as he could to grab the horse and a cart from the stables.

 

* * *

 

 

Heinwald let out a deep breath as the door closed behind the inquisitors. He rubbed his temple in irritation and requested tea from his servant as he headed to his study.

“Now, if only I could be permitted to see what sort of runes they etched on everyone’s doors…” Heinwald mumbled to himself as he began to gather all books on runes.

He took some paper and pen and began to scrawl some sigils that were most likely to be used for the casting. Unfortunately, with no knowledge of the intent of the ritual other than certain doom, there were thousands of possibilities. After some minutes of deeply studying calamity runes, he shifted his focus to spells that could counteract them. This went on until dusk, in which a servant came in to gently remind him to eat.

As the nobleman sat alone at the dining table with his food, he wondered what Curran was doing. A tinge of loneliness sat in his chest as he stared down at his plate. Yes, they did not spend _all_ of their time together—Heinwald was guilty of frequently going off on his own if a case was too boring. However, this was the first time the two had been forcedly separated so abruptly in a manner out of their control. Loneliness morphed into guilt as Heinwald wished he did not have to abide by his secrecy just this once.

Not incredibly hungry, he finished dinner early and decidedly paced around his manor to delve deeper in his thoughts. He had great suspicions about who could be framing him, but he would need to find a way to prove his innocence first. This was difficult when there was a doppelganger on the loose. The scholar frowned, as he would have to rely on Curran. Despite feeling so helpless, he inhaled deeply, putting full faith in his partner.

Marburg may have called Curran soft and Heinwald a freak, but such words never bothered Heinwald. He was used to being viewed as eccentric since he was a child; but he could tell that those words were the source of insecurities lying within the inquisitor. The scholar yearned to be with him if only to let him know that his kindness was his strength—that Curran’s faith in him will never be in vain.

 

* * *

 

 

It was late afternoon as Curran followed the map to return to the horrific scene of the crime. Flies and maggots now gorged on the pile, their crawling limbs adding an unsettling movement to an otherwise still area. Curran held his breath as he examined each corpse closely, noting how the dragons’ hearts were noticeably missing. He grimaced before digging them shallow graves and saying a quiet prayer to each after burying them. All the while, he could feel a distinct presence behind him.

After saying his last prayer, Curran suddenly called out, “I know you’re behind me!”

The inquisitor swiftly grabbed his axe and turned around, eyes widening as he saw none other than Heinwald standing amongst the brush. The scholar’s eyes were lit with the same hatred he held earlier as he gripped his glowing staff in rage.

“H-Heinwa—”

An immense purple blast shot at Curran. He was too taken aback to react. He only saw blackness now.

 

* * *

 

 

As time passed, Heinwald found himself lost in his own thoughts rather than the books that laid before him. He replayed the scene at the Library Obscura those weeks ago…

“Those who fathom the abyss are beguiled by such…or are the abyss itself.”

He spoke those words aloud, remembering what Nyarlathotep was implying with those words. Was he somehow related to the abyss, Nyarlathotep, or even the Ancient One itself? Even the spells he was drawn to were those relating to the abyss. He always thought it was just because of his interest in forbidden knowledge in general, but now he didn’t know what to think of himself.

He could feel the dark aura coursing through his own veins, and he felt no choice but to cast a spell he frequently would use during skirmishes to improve his senses. He had avoided using it since that encounter with Nyarlathotep but felt that now was a dire time in order to know exactly what was happening.

After making sure no one was in the study with him, he stood in the middle of the room and inhaled deeply.

“Abyssal Connection.”

His whole body emitted a purple aura, and he instantly felt the effects of the spell. He could feel the presence of every book in his study and hear the footsteps of servants down the opposite hall. As he inhaled, the scholar felt his body being drawn to a certain area: his family portrait above the fireplace. Heinwald opened his eyes and stepped towards it, sighing sadly as he observed the regal smile of his sister as they stood next to their parents in the painting. The young Heinwald looked just as serious as his present-day counterpart. The scholar had almost forgotten what he looked like before the accident; flawless pale skin and jet-black hair slicked back and gelled to perfection. His eyes narrowed as he observed the look of his parents: his father had an intimidating glower and his mother’s lips were pursed as if the portrait itself was disapproving of Heinwald’s presence.

Heinwald reached up to remove the painting, but it refused to budge. Furrowing his brow, he felt at the sides to find any sort of hidden buttons. Eureka! He pushed down on a small button on the bottom left corner and felt the rumble of a wall move beside the fireplace.

Knowing how much of a tyrannical leader his father was, it did not surprise Heinwald to find such a secret in the mansion. He had vowed to only delve into his father’s doings when needed—and now that Heinwald himself was a target, it seemed a good reason to do so. He had a bad feeling he was going to find something terrible as he illuminated the dark steps downwards with a purple-glowing palm.

At the bottom of the steps was a small lounge with couches and armchairs for multiple people to relax, a huge world map with pins on certain locations, and a table at the corner next to a bookshelf. The scholar immediately walked over to the books to glance at their spines: he read titles like _Spells of the Ancient_ , _Gatekeeper of the Damned_ , and… _Black Jack’s Grimoire_?

Heinwald pulled that last book out and flipped through the pages, finding dark spells that were dated decades ago. The book looked rather old despite there still being some blank pages for more content to be added. The scholar then eyed the desk, in which a particular book did not match the rest of the room’s dusty appearance.

_Summoning of the Ancient_

As he was about to scour through its contents, he saw a folded piece of paper sticking out. He opened to its page to find a chapter about how to summon the Ancient One itself. He then unfolded the paper to see if it was anything important or just a bookmark, and his throat immediately felt dry as he struggled to swallow.

_Dear Heinwald,_

_I trust you to be smart enough to find this letter rather quickly. Come to the spot marked in purple on the map in this room on Friday of this week, 11:30pm. You will fulfill your duty as a Mage of the Ancient. Read the accompanying chapter well if you want to save your town. Curran’s life depends on your success as well. Rest assured he will be there to witness your decision._

_Signed,_

_Black Jack_

Heinwald stood frozen as his thoughts spiraled in every direction. He tried to calm himself by closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He had two days. He flipped through the chapter to see how long it was—about 50 pages. He then walked over to the map to find the purple pin: it was in a random isolated part of the forest near the Halidom, a day’s journey.

Taking the two books back up the steps to the study, the scholar scrawled two letters and placed them in envelops, carefully sealing them with wax stamped with the family crest. Bursting through the doors, he startled the two servants standing watch.

“Quickly, have this letter sent to the Cardinal and this one sent to Prince Euden of the Halidom. I don’t care what time it is; this is of extremely important matters and whoever does it will be handsomely awarded.”

The tired servants took a second to process everything that was suddenly shouted in their faces, but then each took one letter and ran off to the stables. Heinwald sighed and retreated back into the study, opening the book from the desk and began reading. It was dense, and he needed every second of time to be able to finish before the appointed meeting.

 

* * *

 

Curran woke to find his arms tied to his ankles behind him. He was on the floor in a pitch-black room without any windows. After spending a few minutes trying to struggle out of his bindings, he saw a light from under the crack of the door, and a hooded figure walked in with a candle. The light shown the gaunt features on this old woman’s face as she approached him.

“So you are the one who has been working with my son...” she croaked with a laugh.

Her blood red eyes pierced into Curran’s as her palm began to glow with the same purple as Heinwald’s magic.

“Let’s see how much he cares about you.”


End file.
